


More Destiny Shorts

by yansurnummu



Series: Of Crows and Wolves [6]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Early City Days, Enemies to Friends, First Meetings, Gen, Gender Identity, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Makeup, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yansurnummu/pseuds/yansurnummu
Summary: First; a warlock and a questioning hunter share a coffee.Second; a hunter grieves the loss of his home – not a place, but a person.Third; two paths collide, like oncoming cars on a highway.Fourth; a crow falls deeper in love with a wolf.(A collection of ficlets I needed a place for)
Relationships: The Crow/Nonbinary Guardian - Relationship
Series: Of Crows and Wolves [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071188
Kudos: 5





	1. Kahvesi

"What's wrong, my dear?" 

Kara crosses one leg over the other, leaning back in the metal patio chair. James stares into his coffee cup, his mind racing as she watches him curiously.

"How do you do it?" he says softly. Kara cocks her head.

"Do what?" there's a smirk at her painted lips. James sighs.

"You're just…  _ beautiful," _ it should be a compliment, but his voice is distressed. "But you ain't… pinned down by anythin' like… gender."

Kara's dark eyebrows raise as she regards him. James' eyes flick up to meet hers, and she chuckles.

"Oh,  _ kedicik,"  _ she sets her coffee cup down, "I simply  _ am."  _

She says it like it's just another fact, but James frowns. "What do you feel  _ you _ are?" she asks.

James considers her. It wasn't something he thought about often until he came to the City. He was content with the utilitarian practicality of the wilderness, but here, there are so many  _ people. _ There are so many social cues to mix up, constraints to adhere to.

"I don't know. Sometimes I like being a man, but other times I just wanna be… nothin'," he admits to her quietly.

Kara hums, sagelike in her serenity. 

"Then be nothing, my dear," she picks up her coffee again, taking a sip. "Your mind is your only prison."

"What if I'm wrong?" his brow furrows as he anxiously examines his own cup.

"Such is the nature of experimentation," she laughs, "but nothing can be gained by inaction."

James is silent for some time as he contemplates her words. He circles the cup with his hands, just to feel the warmth on his cold skin.

"Could you…" he begins, pauses, and tries again, "I'd like if you called me Jamie. And…  _ they," _ their voice is soft, hesitant. "For now, at least."

Kara grins, her bright eyes glimmering.

"Of course, my dear. Jamie," she reaches an elegant hand across the table, placing it over Jamie's own.

Her touch is warm, comforting. Jamie returns her smile, their mind at ease.


	2. On Phobos

**file: HIDDEN_REPORT_985526110**

> >phobos base seems to have been abandoned. place looks ransacked, haven't seen anyone in weeks. subject's jumpship is gone, freighter too. evidence suggests evacuation. probably a smart move. you can see the hole left by mars from here.

James locks the datapad, raising his gaze. 

"We've been here every week for three months. What makes you think she'd come back now?" his Ghost says softly from beside him.

He stares forward for a while, the night of the Martian moon covering the landscape. He can see the silhouette of the familiar place on the horizon.

Kara never liked him landing too close.  _ That rustbucket of yours puts my sensors into disarray, _ he can hear her say. The thought brings a twitch of a smile to his lips beneath his mask.

The hike was a familiar comfort to him. It gave him time to gather his thoughts, compose himself before entering her space as if he was some teenager trying to impress his first date.

As if all coherent thought didn't leave him as soon as he set eyes on her. Every time, without fail, she took his breath away.

The hike was always one of anticipation, relief,  _ coming home, _ if he ever actually had a place to call home.

But lately, it was one of false hope and disappointment, longing for something he's not quite sure how he lost. 

The bunker is dark and cold when he slides the airlock open. The lights flicker on, and he can hear the radiator kick in. 

He feels numb as he looks around the room. Most of the equipment and databases have been stripped, leaving the lab feeling empty. He moves to her desk where she kept her carnivorous plants, pulling the chair up and settling down.

There's an old recorder with a tape in it, and he runs his fingers over it before hitting play.

> _ Darling, _
> 
> _ I can bear this pain no longer. It is time for me to act, after hiding for so long. I have so many questions, questions I am on the precipice of learning the answers to. _
> 
> _ (Sighs) I will not tell you to not search for me, because I know in my heart that you will, regardless. But know that there is nothing you could have done to stop me or to change my mind. _
> 
> _ I cannot guarantee that our paths will cross again, and it breaks my heart. But what I must do… I do not wish for you to see.  _
> 
> _ Know that no matter the outcome, I will always love you, as I have for a hundred years.  _
> 
> _ Yours for eternity and the void beyond, _
> 
> _ Kara. _

He replays it, again, and again. He rests his head in his arms, tears soaking his sleeves. 

Eventually, his grief subsides enough for him to sleep, lulled by the sound of her voice.


	3. They Want Us Dead

It's nothing personal, at first.

She stops him on a country road, not giving him time to react before he's staring down the barrel of her shotgun. His Ghost stitches his head back together, but by then she's already taken off with his sparrow and the 400-something glimmer he had on him.

He tracks her down three days later, putting a bullet in her head while she sleeps. When she comes to, she sees him speeding off, and she grins to herself, as much as an exo can. 

She lobs a sticky grenade onto the sparrow's engine, and he realizes what she's done a beat too late before his vision goes white. When his Ghost pulls him back together, he sees her lounging by her campfire, unconcerned with the flaming wreckage of the sparrow.

He throws one of his own, scowling.

She dodges it, barely escaping the radius of the explosion. Three shots of her shotgun fire, and he ducks under two, the third filling his chest with buckshot.

He comes back with a fury, brandishing a golden gun, the single shot ringing in his ears as she's vaporized. She's laughing when her Ghost pulls her atoms back together.

She lunges, arc energy crackling around her fists. He tries to block her swing, but the electricity sears into his nerves and he feels like a moth caught in a trap.

He can feel his Ghost's contempt when he's brought back, seething. He spits on the ground, throwing down his pistol, and jumps back in.

She parries his attack, jamming her fist into his gut. He gasps, but pulls back for another swing, hitting her in the temple. She staggers, but quickly recovers, hooking her leg under his. He grunts as he hits the ground, managing to pull her down with him. She quickly grabs at him, her thick arm around his throat.

He gasps for air, ramming his elbow into her side, but she's  _ tough _ and doesn't let up. Consciousness slipping, he grasps at the knife in his belt, and hears her choked gasp as he plunges it into her neck before his vision fades.

He inhales sharply when his Ghost brings him back, just in time to see her Ghost do the same.

He sighs, sitting up in front of the campfire, lighting a cigarette. He hears her wrench the knife from her metal body.

"Sotiris," she says. He turns his head to see her holding out his knife, the blade between her fingers.

"Nate," he mutters, taking the knife and depositing it back in its sheath.

Nate offers her a cigarette from his case, and Sotiris accepts with a nod of thanks. He lights it when she leans in, a small bit of solar light at his fingertips.

"I'm sure we can work somethin' out," she exhales smoke, one of her optics flickering in a wink. 

Nate smirks. He was never one to let pride stand in the way of opportunity. 


	4. Crimson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt from my tumblr that I used as an excuse to write an accompaniment to this art  
> https://yansurnummu.tumblr.com/post/641922971138719744/crimson-days-1-crimson-my-hunter-because-they

Crow can see James' smile in the mirror as he enters the room. He has two cups of hot coffee in his hands, and he sets one down on the vanity for James.

James thanks him, returning the cap to the mascara in their hand. Crow can't help how he watches them fondly, his own coffee cup clasped in his hands. When James sets their cup down, there's a smudge of red lipstick on the rim.

"We'll do you next, if you want," James grins, fussing with their hair in the mirror.

Crow laughs, setting down his coffee. He finds it difficult to discern if they're joking sometimes, but the thought brings him a warm feeling anyways. He moves behind the Wolf, his hands on their bare shoulders. They're a beautiful sight, as always, in a deep red silk dress that matches their lipstick, sharp eyeliner accenting their brown eyes.

"You look stunning," he says and James smiles at him in the mirror. Crow ducks his head, pressing a kiss to their neck, and James chuckles, covering Crow's hands with their own.

James stands, motioning for Crow to sit, and so he does. The Wolf eagerly gets to work, shuffling through different palettes and weighing the colours against Crow's skin before they seem to land on a decision.

A brush moves along Crow's eyelids and he struggles to keep still at first. James moves to his cheekbones and he opens his eyes, seeing the Wolf deeply focused on his face. They're so close to him, and Crow's breath catches as he takes them in, painted lips parted and body leaning over him. And that  _ dress, _ oh; it cuts low over their chest and fits snugly around their waist, and Crow fights the urge to reach out and touch them.

He loses the battle, of course, and James giggles as he runs his fingertips along their sides, the fabric soft under his touch. He's told to close his eyes again, and he complies as James traces his eyelids in a liquid liner, trying his best to not flinch at the cold and wet feeling. His palms smooth over James' hips and he can feel the way their hand pauses, their focus quickly waning.

"I hope you're not gonna just leave it half finished?" Crow opens his eyes to see the Wolf clearly flustered. Crow grins to himself when James stops entirely, whimpering as Crow's hands move down along their thighs.

"Prat," they roll their eyes, pushing Crow's hands away playfully. "Let me finish, then. Maybe  _ after _ I'll let you touch, if you're a good boy," they smirk, pointing the eyeliner pen in front of Crow's face.

Crow laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. He keeps his hands to himself as James straddles his lap, hitching the dress just a bit further up their thighs. Crow's fingers twitch, wanting to touch them so bad, but also wanting to be  _ good. _

It was already an intimate experience, having the Wolf work their art onto his skin; but having them this much closer, their thighs against his hips – there was no feeling like it.

"There's a good boy," James whispers, and Crow swallows dryly. His eyes flutter shut once more as he allows the Wolf to finish their work.

As soon as James is done his makeup, Crow pulls them in, drinking in their gasp as he wraps his arms around their waist and kisses them. They melt against him, hands in his hair as their lips move with his, and Crow can't help how he smiles to himself.


End file.
